The Unbreakables
by Screaming Faeries
Summary: Luna's recent medical discovery has left her in a state of vulnerability, but luckily her father has returned from his travels. Being unsure how to deal with her current crisis, he takes matters into his own hands to monitor the situation. Everyone soon begins to learn more about Aurora Greengrass, and the sinister turn she seems to be taking. Book 2 of the Unfixables!
1. A Long Time Alone

_**Chapter One**_

 _ **A Long Time Alone**_

"Okay Barty, you just take a seat down in here and your visitor will be along shortly." A Mind Healer, who allowed the patients of the Healing Clinic to informally call her Jan, smiled brightly at Barty as she gestured for him to sit down in the Visiting Room. It was a wide empty room, with various small tables and chairs littered around. A glass window separated the Visiting Room from the Healer's office and waiting room beyond, which Barty wasn't allowed to access.

He took a seat at the central table and knitted his fingers together, staring at the door which led to the waiting area. It was just this morning that Jan had knocked on his door and alerted him that he would be having a visitor this morning; but they hadn't left their name.

It was Luna, of course. There was no one else it could be, and no one else that Barty wanted to see, frankly. Though, her visits with him had dwindled lately, and he was determined to make a point of talking to her about it.

During the first week that Barty had been incarcerated at the hospital for attempting to murder Rolf Scamander, Luna visited every day. She would stay for hours, until Doctor Babar himself had to come along and insist that Barty have some alone time. However, the second week passed with slightly less visits, and Barty had put it down to Doctor Babar probably having a private chat with her on her way out.

But then another four weeks passed, and Barty didn't see Luna at all in that space of time. He questioned Doctor Babar during his therapy sessions, but the doctor insisted that he didn't know why Luna wasn't visiting. He pestered Doctor Babar to make an appointment with Luna, but he refused. As far as he was concerned, Barty needed to concentrate on getting himself better, and it was likely that Luna was just giving him some space to get well.

He had written to Luna almost daily, but his owls were never returned. Not seeing her or speaking to her hurt Barty so much, that he was sure if he wasn't medicated and in a safe place, he would surely lose his patience and end up doing something he would probably regret. However, he wasn't allowed his wand in the hospital, and naturally he was banned from using anything that was sharp or harmful. He even had to have supervision whilst he was shaving.

Frankly, Barty couldn't understand why Luna didn't want to see him. She had promised him explicitly, on that first day of his admission, that she would come to visit him. Since her last visit, Barty had replayed their conversations over and over in his head, trying desperately to work out if he had done or said something wrong. As far as he was concerned, he hadn't said anything to upset her—she had just left him in the hospital to rot.

He battled momentarily with how he would react when she walked through the door. He wanted to be angry with her; to shout and scream and maybe even cry, because she had _left_ him. She didn't know what it was like to be utterly trapped, no matter how much the Healers tried to make the place comfortable and airy. Barty still had very limited freedom.

However, at the same time, he knew that when he saw her beautiful face, he would be besides himself with joy.

Footsteps echoed behind the door, and Barty sat up in his seat expectantly. He couldn't see properly behind the fogged glass of the door, but he watched Jan in her office. She grinned at the visitor, and handed her something.

Then, the door opened.

Barty couldn't help himself. All of his previous conflicting emotions were sucked out of him, and he was left with nothing but a void of euphoric excitement. He missed her so much. He couldn't wait to see her.

"Luna!" he cried, lunging for the girl as she stepped into the Visiting Room.

"Woah!" she fell back, falling against the wall in her bid to get away from him. "What are you doing?"

Barty blinked at the girl who had just entered the Healing Clinic. She had deep auburn hair, fastened on top of her head in a scraggly bun. Her pointed face was familiarly pale, something about her sharp cheekbones and long chin. She was tall, wearing pale denim jeans, a green snakeskin jacket, and light pink high-tops. She glared at him darkly, waiting for his response.

It took Barty a minute to compose himself, as he staggered away from the girl and sat back down at his table. "Who the hell are you?" he snarled, eyeing her up and down disdainfully as she approached him, fastening a small badge to her jacket. It was a bright blue pin that all visitors were required to wear, which read _'Admission Granted'_ in bold black letters.

The girl slowly sat down opposite him, though she positioned her chair a little way away from the table. "My name is Aurora Greengrass," she replied slowly, her full bottom lip shuddering a little as she spoke. "And I think I may be your daughter."


	2. The Truth in Lies

_**Chapter Two**_

 _ **The Truth in Lies**_

* * *

Aurora watched disdainfully as Barty cackled ruthlessly opposite her.

As soon as the words left her mouth, he had burst into fits of laughter. Initially, it had started out as a haughty chuckle, but soon tears were streaming down his face, and he was clutching the edges of the table as he cried with mirth.

"I'm sorry," she spoke slowly through pursed lips, as he wiped a tear from his eye and caught his breath. "It wasn't meant to be a joke."

"Oh, Merlin," he wept, struggling to speak in a regular pitched voice. "You stupid girl. I don't have a bloody _daughter!"_

Aurora took another deep breath. "I know it might come as a surprise to you..."

"I don't know what your mother told you, _Aurora_. But I only ever went to bed _once_ with Cordelia—"

"—wait," Aurora interrupted, holding up her hands. " _Wait_. You know who I am?"

Barty smirked. "Of course I know who you are. You are the absolute spitting image of Cordelia."

Aurora closed her eyes briefly. "Look. I just want...I just need to..." a lump was growing in her throat, causing her breath to feel shallow. She had been waiting for _weeks_ to meet her potential father. She'd planned out exactly how the conversation would go. This wasn't what she had expected. She opened her eyes again and stared across the table at him calmly. "My Aunt Caroline told me that my mother was...with...both you and Regulus Black. Regulus is dead, so..."

"So you assumed that I would welcome you with open arms?" Barty said sardonically.

"I just want some answers!" tears suddenly sprang into Aurora's eyes. "My mum just _died,_ Mr Crouch! She got cancer, and she didn't tell me straight away...and...and...she just..." her voice tailed off into a train of ineligible sobs, while Barty glared at her disinterestedly.

"I went to bed with your mother _once_ ," he finally spat, before folding his arms over his chest.

"Sometimes once is all it takes—"

"—not in this situation," Barty continued, overriding her. "I wore protection, so I didn't catch whatever form of Syphilis she had that caused her soul to rot."

Aurora looked mortified. "Don't talk about her like that!"

"Like what?" Barty shot her a dirty look. "Like she was a saint? She wasn't. She was a little slut. She was _obsessed_ with me, when I was in love with someone else."

"Don't you think you're being a little big headed?" Aurora snapped.

"It's the truth," he continued. "Cordelia was in love with me for years, but I only ever saw her as nothing but a friend. She was so upset that I never returned her affections that she tried to hit it off with my best friend."

"Regulus?"

"Yes, Regulus. She got into a quick relationship with him. I knew what she was trying to do—trying to make me jealous—but I tried to stay out of it. Regulus was the one who fell in love with her, like the dumbstruck fool he was."

"So Regulus is my father?" Aurora cut in. "You're going too fast."

"Regulus, every other male in our year—who knows? But Regulus is most likely candidate."

Aurora narrowed her eyes. "How do I know you're not lying? And anyway—why did you sleep with my mother if you didn't like her?"

Barty pursed his lips and closed his eyes, as if he were reliving a particularly painful memory. "She figured out who it was who I was in love with, and her jealousy made her do something extremely stupid. Cordelia was an exceptionally gifted witch, and...well, I fell for her talents."

"But what did she do?"

He sighed. "She brewed a Polyjuice Potion in private. I would _never_ have believed it if I didn't discover the truth later on. Cordelia used the potion to transfigure into the girl she was so jealous of. The rest is history."

Aurora and Barty were silent for a long time as Aurora processed what she had just been told. She wasn't entirely convinced.

"Look," she said after what seemed like an age of silence. "That's all well and good, but it's my _mum_ you're talking about. I've just met you. How am I supposed to believe what you're telling me?"

Barty leaned back in his chair. "I don't care if you do or not. I didn't even have to speak to you today, but frankly I'm bored."

"Please," Aurora murmured. "I need to know."

"It's not my problem!" Barty snapped loudly, and the Mediwitch behind the reception in the waiting area looked up from her work.

Aurora stood up so fast that her chair crashed to the tiled floor loudly, and she slammed her hands on the desk. She had hoped that Barty might jump or flinch, but instead he sat as still as a statue, eyeing her reproachfully. "Listen, I don't want to cross you. I've heard all about you. But I _need_ to know who my father is. If I go to the Ministry and claim you're my biological dad, then you're in for a lot of trouble."

Barty's lips thinned even more. "They won't believe you."

"Really?" Aurora leaned forward on the desk. "I'm the poor innocent girl who lost her mother to a destructive disease. _You_ on the other hand, you're an ex-convict who is currently in a psychiatric hospital. Who do you think they'll take seriously?"

"Whatever," Barty rolled his eyes expressively. "Fine. Give me your wand."

"What?"

"Give me your wand."

"Do you think I'm a retard?"

Barty tapped the side of his head. "Memories, Aurora. I have them—all the memories of your mother, all the proof you need that Regulus is _probably_ your father. I may have exaggerated a little when I called her a slut. Do you have a vial?"

"Er..." Aurora fished around in her handbag until she found an empty plastic bottle. "This will have to do."

"Wand," Barty repeated. He eyed the Mediwitch as he spoke. "And hurry up, before the receptionist looks over again. I'll get myself another three months in here if I'm caught using a wand."

Aurora took a breath and withdrew her wand from her pocket. She hesitated before handing it over to him. "Can I trust you not to do anything...dodgy?"

Barty smirked. "I guess I'm the nearest thing you have to an uncle—or a godfather, at least. You're going to have to trust me." He took the wand from her with both hands, and observed it hungrily. It had felt like so long since he had a wand in his possession; since he'd had access to magic. It would just take a few quick spell, and he could out of here in no time. He could be with Luna before the day was out.

He sucked in a breath sharply. He had to get a hold of himself.

Aurora watched as he pressed the tip of his wand to his temple and slowly withdrew it. A long, thin white strand was seemingly extracted from his head, glowing brightly. When it reached about thirty centimetres it broke off, and Barty lowered it towards the open top of the empty bottle.

When the string of memories was curled up like a tubeworm inside the bottle, Aurora screwed the cap on tightly and snatched her wand out of Barty's hand. "What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Take it to a Pensieve. Don't ask me more questions—just find one, and you'll see."

Aurora put the bottle carefully inside her bag, and turned back to Barty. "Thank you," she said slowly. "I'm really grateful."

"Great. So can you leave, now?"

"There's just one more thing." Before Barty could snap an irritable response back at her, she went on. "When you're out of here, would you agree to a consensual DNA test? Just, you know, as _real_ proof."

Barty stared at her blankly.

"It's like, a Muggle science thing," Aurora went on. "They take the DNA and see if it match—"

"—I know what it is!" Barty yelled suddenly, causing Aurora to flinch. "Fine! Whatever! As long as it gets you as far away from me as possible, _fine!_ "

A grin spread across Aurora's face. "Thank you, Mr Crouch," she said gratefully, zipping up her coat. "I'll leave you be now. Thank you," she spread her fingers at him goodbye, and made to leave.

"Wait!" he called, just before she reached the door. "Have you..." he pressed his lips together. "Have you seen anything of Luna?"

"Luna?" she repeated. Suddenly, a flicker of emotion flashed across her face. "No. No, I haven't seen her," she said quickly, then grabbed the doorhandle.

"You're lying."

"See you soon, Mr Crouch!" Aurora called, and hurriedly left the Visiting Room.

"You're lying!" Barty screamed suddenly, diving up from his seat. He flipped the table over as he moved towards the door, focusing on the retreating red-haired figure through the glass. "Get back here and tell me the truth!" he grabbed the doorhandle, but it was too late. The Mediwitch had already locked the door, preventing Barty from getting out.

"Barty, what are you doing?" he spun around on his heel, and saw Jan standing in the doorway that led to the rest of the hospital. He slammed his fist on the window, wishing that no charms were present so he could smash the glass.

"She's lying!" he sobbed, and crumpled to the floor as Jan hurried over this side. "She knows where Luna is."

oOo

Xenophilius's hands shook as he set teacups and a teapot out neatly on a tray. He had brewed Luna's favourite—peppermint tea. He lifted the tray carefully, trying to minimise the clattering of the pottery as he walked steadily into the living room.

He couldn't pretend that he didn't wish he was still holidaying in Scotland. When he received the news that Luna had been admitted to St. Mungo's after the Diagon Alley attack, he had returned immediately fled back home. The news of Luna being pregnant with Barty's children had hit him hard, and he still wasn't entirely sure what he was to do with that news.

If anything, he was putting off any thoughts of Barty Crouch Junior. He just wanted things to go back to the way they were—before this whole mess had started.

"I've brought you some tea," he said in a hoarse voice as he entered the living room. Luna was sitting in her usual armchair, staring out of the window vacantly. Her hair was neatly combed back away from her face, and she was wearing a pale blue nightshirt. Xenophilius rested the tea tray on the table in front of her, and sat down in the armchair opposite.

"Thank you, Daddy," she murmured, as Xenophilius reached over to pour her a cup of peppermint tea. As he did so, he noticed that she was fiddling with something small and round.

"What's that you have there?" he asked, placing the teapot down. She blinked at him, then looked into the palm of her hand.

"Oh," she said softly, staring down at the object. "I don't know."

Xenophilius took it out of her hand. It was a small, circular blue badge, with the words _Admission Granted_ across it. "This is from the Psychiatric Unit," he murmured.

"Yeah," Luna replied, continuing to stare out of the window. "I think I need to visit. I don't know why. But I have this feeling."

Xenophilius dropped the badge on the table and stood up quickly, heading back to the kitchen.

He never had been that good at memory charms. It had only been a week since he had last done it. Carefully, he took his wand out of the pocket of his robes, and turned back to Luna, pointing it at the back of her head.

" _Obliviate."_

* * *

 **What do you think? Please leave your thoughts!**


	3. Rolf's Intervention

**W.C:** 4,626

 _ **Chapter Three**_

 _ **Rolf's Intervention**_

Aurora rolled onto her back in her room at the Leaky Cauldron, turning to face the fair-haired boy who was snoring softly beside her. She smiled to herself, admiring the way the sun cast strange light patterns on his pale face.

"Rolf," she whispered, urging him to wake up. "Rolf."

His grey eyes cracked open sleepily and he observed her before smiling softly. "Hey."

They had been entertaining this private relationship for a couple of weeks, ever since Rolf Scamander had been discharged from St. Mungo's Hospital. Whilst she had been trying to get information about where Barty had been sent to, Aurora had found herself spending more and more time by Rolf's sick bed.

In the last few weeks, Rolf had pretty much been the only person that Aurora had been able to connect to. Hannah Abbott was lovely and tried to talk to her as often as she could, but Aurora had the impression that Hannah might have a secret relationship of her own. Sometimes when they were talking, she wouldn't be fully _in_ the conversation. She would nod and make responsive noises, but Aurora knew she wasn't fully listening. When owls started soaring through the open windows of the Leaky Cauldron and Hannah began tucking secret little notes into her apron, Aurora put two and two together.

For a few weeks, she had been fairly close to Caroline Greengrass, the woman who she had recently discovered to be a maternal aunt. However, Caroline had been fairly preoccupied with a marital arrangement between one of her daughters, and Aurora hadn't met Daphne nor Astoria yet. She didn't feel it was right to butt in.

Being the outcast from Australia, she wasn't left with that many friends. So it had been only too easy to connect romantically with Rolf, who was vulnerable from Barty Crouch Jr's attempted murder.

"I'm going to get up," she murmured softly. "It's my early shift."

"Oh, can't you stay in bed with me?"

"I can't," Aurora replied with a grin, before sitting up in bed. "Tom will _kill_ me if I'm late again. I don't have much of an excuse, you know—I essentially live where I work."

It wasn't what Aurora had expected to do with her life when she arrived in Britain, but she found that she quite enjoyed working at the Leaky Cauldron. She was given free meals and a room to sleep in, and Tom, the innkeeper, gave her a minimum wage. Hannah was around often, and working in the bar was a good way to stay sociable with the witches and wizards who passed through the Leaky Cauldron to get to Diagon Alley.

"Hannah will sort it," Rolf grumbled tiredly, his eyes slipping closed.

"She's on the late shift," Aurora said. "Anyway—what are you doing today?"

Rolf rolled onto his back and yawned loudly. "I don't know. I've felt a hell of a lot better these last few days, so I'm thinking of going back up to the Lovegood house and seeing if I can keep my job at the _Quibbler_."

Aurora climbed out of the bed and wandered over to the dresser where her standard black uniform robes were. She dressed quickly, then looked back over at Rolf. "Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, it would be nice to see Luna, too. I haven't seen her since the day at Diagon Alley."

Aurora forced a strained smile onto her face. "Oh. That's great."

"Aurora."

"I mean, you haven't seen the girl you were _pining_ after for months, so you're just going to hop on your broomstick to the south of England to see her, but it's okay."

"Aurora!"

"Why do you even want to work at that stupid magazine, anyway? It's not like the _Quibbler_ seems to produce any decent reading material. Now, Rita Skeeter—she knows what she's talking about. Do you know she's been covering the whole ordeal with Barty? She's been very sympathetic with you—" she was cut off as Rolf's lips crashed against hers. She'd been so busy talking that she hadn't noticed him creep out of bed and meet her by the window.

"Relax," Rolf told her. "I'm with _you._ " He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and then looked down into her bright eyes. "Luna's a friend, and we went through that day at Diagon Alley together. I owe it to her to go and make sure she's okay."

Aurora nodded slowly. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Anyway—when did you start paying attention to anything Rita Skeeter had to say?" Rolf asked with a chuckle. "Everything she writes is total nonsense."

"Well, it's entertaining nonsense."

"Did you find a Pensieve for Barty's memories, yet?"

"Oh..." Rolf was the only person who Aurora had told about the memories that Barty had given her. Unfortunately, an object as valuable as a Pensieve wasn't easy to come by, and it was even more difficult to discover one without explaining to the owner why she wanted to use it. To be honest, she wasn't sure whether she wanted to see them or not.

For her entire life, Cordelia Greengrass had been the apple of her eye. She had truly envisioned her mother as nothing other than a saint, and her conversation with Barty had caused her to begin to imagine her mother in a variation of different ways. She wasn't sure if she was ready to be exposed to the woman her mother had been in her youth.

"No, I haven't," she finally replied, and forced another smile. "I'll ask around on my shift today. Surely someone owns a Pensieve."

"And then you'll finally have closure on who your father is," Rolf finished, and grinned. "I'll see you tonight?"

"I'll be here," Aurora murmured. "As always."

oOo

Less than thirty minutes later, Rolf was walking up the front path of the ominous looking, steel-grey Lovegood house. Despite it being quite early in the year, with the air still promising more cold winter weather, the white sun was beaming overhead. Everything seemed perfectly normal at the house—smoke billowed out of the chimney, and he could hear familiar, tinkly laughter within.

He climbed up the front steps and reached out to rap on the wooden door with his knuckles. Just a few moments after, he heard footsteps and the lock clicking. He prayed that it was Luna who answered—he didn't really want to have to make conversation with loopy old Xeno.

However, his prayers weren't answered, and it was a shifty looking Mr Lovegood who answered the door. Instead of welcoming Rolf and letting him come in, he looked over his shoulder, and stepped out onto the step, closing the door behind him.

"Can I help you, Mister..."

"Rolf, sir. Rolf Scamander. Don't you remember me?"

Recognition suddenly lit up on Xenophilius's face. "Ah, yes. Newt's grandson. What can I do for you?"

Rolf stepped a little closer, to signal that he'd like to come in. Xenophilius didn't budge. "I was wondering if I could see Luna?"

Xenophilius scratched the back of his head and cleared his throat. "Well, that's not really going to be possible, Rolf. Luna is still quite—quite poorly, you see. She's still not really altogether on her feet."

"Well, she wouldn't have to do anything. I could just come in and check up on her—I've been really worried about her, you see. We were working together on the _Quibbler_ while you were away. That's something else I wanted to talk to you about, actually—maybe, after I've seen Luna?"

"Talk, dear boy, talk away."

Rolf resisted the urge to barge past Xenophilius. He had exhausted every single attempt to get into the house, and Xenophilius was doing everything he could to prevent just that. "Well, I was wondering...if it wasn't too much trouble...maybe I could come back to continue working on the _Quibbler_ with you and Luna? It was giving me great writing experience, and getting a job isn't really very easy for me."

Xenophilius looked bored all the way through Rolf's spiel. "I'm sorry. That's not required. Anyway, it's been lovely talking to you, Ryan—"

"—Rolf."

" _Rolf_ ," corrected Xenophilius. "I really have to get back inside to Luna."

"Surely I could just nip in for a cup of tea—"

"Goodbye, Rolf," Xenophilius interrupted sharply. He pushed the door open, and proceeded to step inside his house, slipping through a small gap so that Rolf couldn't get a look inside the house. However, he was stopped from doing this, as someone was behind the door.

"Daddy?" Luna's voice trilled. "Daddy, what are you doing? Why aren't you letting the visitor in?"

"Luna!" Rolf blurted out, and he pushed past Xenophilius, throwing the door open. Luna jumped out of the way, and he managed to resist throwing his arms around her. She was still in her nightgown and dressing gown, and her long hair was clean and hanging in fluffy locks around her shoulders. "You're okay! I'm so glad you're okay."

"Of course I'm okay," Luna spoke slowly, and eyed Rolf cautiously. "Why wouldn't I be okay?"

Rolf furrowed his brow. "What? After what happened? No one expected you to just be—"

"—Rolf, I really think you need to go," Xenophilius ordered hastily. To Rolf's surprise, Luna held her hand up to her father's face. Both men blinked at her, shocked at her sudden reaction.

"Daddy," she said. "Why are you being so rude? You don't let our guest inside the house, and now you are interrupting him? It's very unlike you, Daddy."

"Luna, I—" Xenophilius started, but Luna kept her hand up and turned her attention back to Rolf.

"Sorry. Please go on?"

Rolf took a breath. "Would you maybe like to go for a walk down by the stream? So we can talk?" he looked meaningfully at Xenophilius as he spoke.

Luna's face lit up. "That would be great! I haven't been out of this house for so long. I'll go get my shoes!" she began bustling around the living room, and Xenophilius pursed his lips.

"Yes, a walk would be lovely. I'll get my stick and join you."

"There's no need, Daddy," Luna replied breezily. "It would be nice to get some space from you."

Rolf managed to swallow the laugh that had formed in his throat. He had forgotten just how matter-of-fact Luna could be.

"Very well," said Xenophilius stiffly. "Make sure you are back for lunch." Without further ado, he marched into the kitchen and shut the door sharply behind him. After Luna had pulled her shoes onto her feet, she stood up straight.

"Aren't you going to get changed?" Rolf asked, gesturing to her nightwear.

"Oh, there's no need," she answered airily. "Let's go." The pair of them exited the house quickly, hurrying down the path. As they walked through the front gate, Rolf turned back to the house. He noticed Xenophilius in the kitchen window, eyeing Rolf in a sinister manner.

There was something not right about the situation. Rolf knew that Xenophilius had always been a strange, eccentric man, but this behaviour was odd even for him. The way he had refused Rolf entry into the house gave him the impression that he didn't want him there, and his reluctance to allow Rolf to see Luna made him think that he was trying to hide her away from the world.

But why? As they walked down the hill towards the stream, Rolf watched Luna. She was smiling, her wide, opal eyes reflecting the pale sky. She skipped as she walked, swinging her arms at her side and clutching the skirts of her nightdress, so that the floaty cotton swished around her. Her white-blonde hair flowed out behind her as she jumped downhill.

Rolf wondered if perhaps Luna had pretended not to recognise Rolf because her father was around, but he couldn't understand why that would be a problem. Rolf was no threat to her—not compared to what had happened to the pair of them with Barty.

Before long they reached the stream. Even though it was quite far from the Lovegood house, it was still in clear view, and Rolf was sure that Xenophilius would still be watching them from the window. But it didn't matter—there was no way that he would be able to _hear_ them.

"Luna," Rolf spoke carefully, rolling his words around on his tongue first. "Have you...have you been to the clinic?" He was referring to the psychiatric ward where Barty was being incarcerated.

Her brow furrowed as she looked at him. "Hmm?"

"The clinic. You know, where Barty is?"

Now Rolf knew that something was wrong. Confusion was evident on her features; not even a flicker of recognition crossed her face.

"Barty who?" she asked, and turned her attention back to the stream. "Oh look! There's goldfish!" She hurried down the bank, squatting down at the side of the stream to get a better look.

Now Rolf knew that there was something wrong. It seemed to click in place almost immediately; Xenophilius's unusual behaviour, Luna's confusion and inability to recognise him or remember Barty. Xenophilius had altered her memory somehow. He didn't want her remembering Barty, or anything that had happened while he was in her life.

While Rolf agreed that Barty was bad for Luna, he still didn't think that this was fair. Xenophilius hadn't given Luna a choice—he had forced those memories out of her head and turned her into little more than a zombie. The memories she had with Barty made her the person she was today. Xenophilius had taken all of that away from her.

He knew he had to do something, and that didn't include taking her back to the Lovegood house. She had to go to hospital. Rolf looked around, searching for anything that he could hide Luna behind so that they could apparate—somewhere where Xenophilius wouldn't be able to spy on them. He spotted a patch of shrubbery a few yards from where they were stood. It wasn't much, but they only needed a few seconds.

"Luna, come over here and check this out," he muttered, gesturing towards the shrubs. She blinked at him, and started climbing up the banking. He grabbed her hands to help her up, and led her over to the bushes. "I think there might be a...a gnome or something in that shrub."

Luna's face lit up excitedly, and she hurried over. "Wow, really?" she exclaimed. "Gnome saliva is _enormously_ beneficial, you know!" Before long, she was waist-high in the shrubs, and Rolf was behind her. He waited until they were in the highest part of the bush, and grabbed her arm. "What are you doing?"

"We have to go," Rolf said urgently. Before Luna could respond, he had turned on the spot, dragging her into side-along apparition with him.

oOo

Within seconds, Luna and Rolf were facing a shoddy department store called Purge and Dowse, Ltd. Rolf kept a firm grip on Luna's hand and stepped through the glass window as though it were made of water. Once they were inside, they were no longer staring at the mannequins that had been in the window of the department store; they were in the large reception area of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

"Why are we at the hospital?" Rolf could hear panic in Luna's voice. "What have you brought me here for?"

"You need to see a Healer," Rolf replied, leading her towards the queue at the reception.

"Look, I don't even know who you are!" Luna exclaimed loudly, causing several witches and wizards seated around to look up and stare at her. "What do you think you are doing?"

Rolf pulled Luna to the queue and placed his hands either side of her face, looking directly into her eyes. He spoke in a low, careful voice. "Look, Luna. You need to trust me. Your father has done something to you...to your memories. You _know_ me. I'm your friend! I'm Rolf."

"I don't remember you," Luna replied tearfully. Rolf felt a lump rising in his own throat, but he swallowed it.

"Just see the Healer. Please," he pleaded. Luna closed her eyes and took a breath.

"Some things are a little confusing at home," she said quietly. "And Daddy is acting...weird."

"Come on," he insisted, as the queue began to filter down. Before long, they were at the front of the queue, facing the Inquiries desk. The pretty, red-lipped Welcome Witch behind the desk smiled brightly.

"Hello there, how can I help you today?" Rolf explained that he believed that Luna was the victim of what he believed to be a memory charm, and she handed them both a little badge to pin to their clothes. "Head to the fourth floor for spell damage," she explained. "Then go to the Tilly Toke Ward."

Rolf nodded, and proceeded towards the elevators with Luna. However, they had no sooner reached the elevator doors when a piercing scream ripped through the reception area. "Luna!"

Luna and Rolf spun around, facing Xenophilius. He rushed towards them, his striped robes streaming out behind him. His face was red with anger, but his eyes were full of frantic fear. Rolf stepped in front of Luna carefully, and grabbed his wand from his pocket.

But before Xenophilius could reach them, a pair of wizards lunged at him. Unlike the other Mediwizards, who wore lime green robes, these two were wearing robes of forest green, giving Rolf the impression that they were probably some kind of security. "Let me get to my daughter!" screamed Xenophilius.

"You've done this to her!" yelled Rolf. "You've messed her head up!" Inwardly, he thanked Merlin that Barty was still in the clinic. As much as he hated Barty, he knew that he would have _murdered_ Xenophilius if he had been in Rolf's position right now.

"I did what was best for her!" Xenophilius bellowed, struggling against the security wizards.

"Daddy," Luna croaked, stepping out from behind Rolf. Her wide eyes were brimming with the threat of tears. "Did you really alter my memory?"

"I had to, sweetheart," he cried, his voice softening. "I had to do what was right."

Luna pressed her lips together and tightened her grip on Rolf's hand, just as the elevator doors swung open. "Let's go," she whispered, pulling him into the lift. "I want my memories back."


	4. Release and Recovery

_**Chapter Four  
**_ _ **Release and Recovery**_

* * *

Barty paused at the door to Doctor Babar's office, holding his breath. This was the first formal one-to-one meeting that he'd had with the doctor in a few weeks, so he was interested to know what it was that he wanted. He _desperately_ was hoping that the ward staff were considering allowing him to go back to normalcy, and leave the confinement of the hospital.

He raised his hand to knock, but Doctor Babar called from inside before his knuckles could touch the door. "Come in, Barty!" Barty grasped the handle and swung the door open, forcing a strained smile onto his face for the doctors sake. Doctor Babar gestured to the seat opposite his desk, grinning. "Sit down, please."

Barty perched on the edge of his seat, staring quietly at Babar. "What did you want to see me for?"

"Oh, always straight to the point, aren't you?" Babar chuckled.

The shadow of a smirk flickered across Barty's face. "I don't like to mess around."

Babar leaned back in his seat, fiddling with a pencil between his chubby fingers. "Yes, I'm very aware of your various little quirks by now, Barty. I wanted to talk to you about something—but first, I want to ask you a question," he paused and licked his lips slowly, before leaning forward and resting his elbows on the desk. "I want to know how you feel, right now, about what you did that day in Diagon Alley."

There was a deafening silence from the moment the words left his lips. Bringing up the Diagon Alley incident was always a sore spot for Barty; he usually responded defensively, maintaining that if Rolf hadn't been flirting with Luna, he wouldn't have had to try and curse him. However, Barty noticed the earnest look in Babar's eyes, and knew that he wasn't prying out of curiosity. He genuinely wanted to know how Barty felt.

It had taken a while, but since knowing him, Barty had started to trust Babar completely.

His throat was dry as he started speaking. "I hate myself for what I did," he whispered hoarsely, his voice barely a breath. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and putting his head in his hands, running his hands through his hair. "I don't care about the kid—but Luna had to see me act like...she had to see me lose control, when I was trying so hard to keep it all together.

"All I wanted was for her to come back home. I was trying to do what was right by going out and getting my Calming Draught and stuff...but I just lost it. When Luna got hurt because of what I did..." Barty's voice shook and cracked. "I couldn't forgive myself. I still can't forgive myself. And now that she doesn't come back to see me, it's even _harder_ to forgive myself."

As Barty finished speaking, Doctor Babar's face spread into a sad smile. "Well done, Barty," he said softly. "I know that was difficult to admit."

"Why did you want to know?" Barty demanded suddenly, lifting his head and boring his red-rimmed eyes into Babar.

"I wanted to see if you were capable of remorse for your actions. Granted, I would like to have seen some kind of remorse for what you did to Mr Scamander, but I suppose that not everyone is perfect. Your obvious resentment for what happened signifies a lot to me. You come across a lot less like a sociopath as you originally did, when we first met."

"What I'm trying to get at, Barty, is that we—myself, and many other staff members—have noticed a remarkable improvement in your mental stability. While you have been on the Calming Draught continuously as well as your required medication, your mood fluctuations have been extremely manageable. If you continue to stay on the right path and remain appropriately medicated, I really don't think that you will belong here anymore."

Barty's eyes suddenly grew more focused, as his attention snapped to what Babar had just said. "You...you mean..."

Babar clasped his hands together. "I think that you are ready to leave, Barty."

Barty almost flew out of his seat, ready to run straight out of the hospital at that very moment. "Really? That's so great—well, I'll go and get my things, then I suppose I will leave straight away—"

"—Barty, wait," Babar interrupted, holding up his palm. Barty's face fell, and he slowly sunk back into his chair. "There are a few things we need to go over first. Think of them as...conditions."

Barty nodded and listened intently as Babar explained these conditions, feeling an odd sense of Deja Vu—it was extremely similar to how Stamford Jorkins had read out his conditions of release when he'd been let out of Azkaban. The conditions that Babar had were quite understandable: he was to continue taking a very strong dosage of his Calming Draught on a daily basis, as well as his regular medication. However, instead of taking that in a pill form, he was to return to the ward monthly for a regular injection, to prevent him from forgetting to take the pills. That way, even if he forgot the Calming Draught, his medication would still be working.

"Luna, who is still down as your primary care giver, will assemble your Calming Draught and provide it to you," Babar went on. "As well as this, you will have to return here twice weekly for therapy sessions with me. Once with me individually, and the second will be a group session with a group of other patients going through similar problems like you."

"Okay," Barty murmured hesitantly.

"Don't worry, an owl will be sent to your home address enlisting all of this information. The final thing is of utter importance, however."

"What's that?"

"It is required for you to attend a court case later this month with the Wizengamot. It won't be as formal as your last one, however. They will want to assess whether you are fit to remain in civilisation."

Barty slumped back, looking defeated. "Well...letting me go is pointless, then. They'll definitely want me to go back to Azkaban!"

"Calm down, Barty," Babar insisted, raising his palm once again. "Things have changed _a lot_ while you've been on the ward. I've been doing a lot of work with the Ministry of Magic and their medieval methods when it comes to the psychologically impaired. In fact, several other inmate cases have been brought back in front of the Wizengamot to be reassessed for Insanity. Things are moving into the twenty-first century much more swiftly than I initially thought.

"I have no doubts that you will be allowed to remain out in the Wizarding World—so long as you _stay out of trouble_." Babar spoke the last four words slowly and clearly, as if Barty was particularly hard of hearing. Barty nodded, resisting the urge to snap at his doctor. He was right—staying out of trouble was especially important now, if he wanted to stay out of hospital and out of Azkaban.

"I understand," Barty replied. "So, can I go now?"

Doctor Babar smiled brightly. "You may. You'll receive your injection of a top up of your meds before you leave, and I will be seeing you for our first individual therapy appointment next Thursday."

Barty jumped up from his seat once again. "Thank you, Doctor Babar," he said quietly, trying to minimise his excitement. Inside, he couldn't wait to get out of the ward, get home, and see Luna.

oOo

Aurora stood in the entrance hall of St. Mungo's Hospital, glancing down at the hastily scribbled note that Rolf had sent to her by owl about fifteen minutes ago. _'Meet me at St. Mungo's - had to take Luna. Explain later. - R.'_ The message was written on a crumpled St. Mungo's leaflet, and the Mediwitch on the image was shaking her head up at Aurora, clearly disgruntled at how the pamphlet was being used. Aurora shoved the leaflet in her pocket, and stared around at the huge hall. Rolf had given her no indication of where she was meant to go to meet him. The hospital was _enormous_.

"Now would be a good time for him to get one of those mobile telephones," she muttered to herself, patting the lump in her pocket where her own large, bulky mobile was kept. The Australian Ministry of Magic were much more technologically forward than the Brits, and it had become a much more recent occurrence for witches and wizards Down Under to use computers and telephones, particularly the younger generations. However, when Aurora had pitched the idea to Rolf, he had blinked at her clumpy mobile awkwardly, and refused to even attempt to learn how to use it.

She rolled her eyes at the memory, and headed towards the sign marked _'Reception',_ expecting the witch behind the desk to help her. However, after noticing the enormous queue of injured, grumbling witches and wizards, Aurora sighed loudly. She was not a patient person. Groaning inwardly, she headed over to bench in front of the Security Office, where she had a clear view of the entrance hall in case Rolf came down to find her.

There was a sign which listed which wards were on each floor, but Aurora noticed that other visitors were wearing little pins on their robes. Everyone who entered the hospital joined the reception queue, so she didn't think that it was acceptable for her to just start wondering around the vast hospital. She leaned back in her seat, wishing that Rolf had taken the time to write her a more detailed note. She couldn't _stand_ waiting.

The sound of grumbling from behind her caused her ears to prick, and she spun round, facing the window of the Security Office. It was a dark window, but when she cupped her hands around her eyes and squinted, she could make out the vague outline of a long-haired man inside the office, muttering to himself. He seemed to be alone. Suddenly intrigued, Aurora edged towards the door and tried the handle. It was locked.

With a few movements of her index fingers on both hands, a small stream of water seemed to emerge from her fingertips and lunged straight for the lock on the door. The water entered the lock, and Aurora heard it sloshing around inside the metal—before there was a sudden click, and the water leaked out of the lock slowly, spilling onto the floor. Aurora checked over her shoulder to make sure that no one was watching, and she quickly slipped into the office.

In the dim light, she noticed an elderly man sitting at the only table inside the office. He had shoulder-length white hair and was wearing canary-yellow robes, and his hands were stretched out in front of him and shackled to the desk. He blinked up at Aurora with his tired, piercing blue eyes. "Who are you?" he asks suddenly. "Are you here to let me go?"

"Oh..." Aurora sat down gingerly in the seat on the other side of the table. "No, I don't work here. I was sitting outside, and I heard you..."

"Curiosity killed the cat," the man said sharply.

"I just wanted to see if you were okay."

"Dear child, I'm so far from 'okay'. I'm a horrible father, a terrible husband, nothing but a mere stain on the earth...how my wonderful daughter was made from my own flesh, I will never know."

"Your...daughter?" Aurora narrowed her eyes at the man, suddenly recognising the silvery tinge to his eyes and the streaks of dirty blonde in his snowy hair. "You're...are you Luna's father?"

"My reputation precedes me," Mr Lovegood said dryly. "My name is Xenophilius. Are you a friend of Luna's?"

Aurora opened her mouth to reply, but fell short. She could count on one hand the times that she had met Luna. She wouldn't really call them _friends,_ especially not now that Aurora was with Rolf, and she still had uncomfortable thoughts about Rolf's true feelings about Luna. However, Mr Lovegood clearly needed someone to talk to—and Aurora was feeling a lot more intrigued about what had happened to her. "Yes, I'm Luna's friend," she said quickly. "My name is Aurora Greengrass. I'm Rolf's girlfriend."

"Hm, Luna never mentioned an Aurora," Mr Lovegood mumbled, but he didn't seem to care a great deal. "I am such an idiot, a damned fool! I just couldn't leave well enough alone. I had to get involved, do what I could to protect my dear daughter. She's such a strong woman now, but all I see when I look at her is the six year old child who was scared of the river at the bottom of the hill."

Aurora couldn't help but feel slightly gleeful at that comment. Luna had been afraid of _water?_ The one thing that Aurora could manipulate without much effort.

"I'm a coward," Mr Lovegood went on. "A pathetic old coward—Luna is better of without me."

"I'm sorry, Mr Lovegood," Aurora interrupted. "But why exactly are you so upset?" She was in the dark here—Rolf had given her no indication of what was going on with Luna.

"You're Luna's friend," Xenophilius stated with a sigh, and Aurora nodded slowly. "I wanted to protect her. I just wanted to protect her, that's all," he took a breath. This was clearly the first time he was even admitting what he had done out loud. "I have been...I have been performing memory charms on her. To make her forget."

"Forget _what?_ " Aurora was stunned. She couldn't believe that someone could perform those kinds of spells on his own daughter, especially when memory charms were so difficult. A lot could go wrong. Just how much had Xenophilius altered Luna's memory? There was a high chance that her brain was completely muddled by now.

Xenophilius flapped his hand impatiently. "That darned criminal, Bartemius Crouch. Him, mainly. And everything that had happened while she was with him—the Diagon Alley incident, the torture that she no doubt suffered at his hands. And...I wanted her to forget..." Xenophilius took another deep breath. "...I wanted her to forget her pregnancy."

Aurora's eyes widened. "Her _pregnancy?_ "

"You didn't know?" Xenophilius sighed. "I guess it won't matter now. Yes, she's pregnant; pregnant with twins. I don't think anyone knew, actually...besides Luna and myself, and the Mediwizards who have seen her."

"But—what—how?!" Aurora spluttered. "How did you expect to keep the pregnancy from Luna? I mean, even with memory charms...eventually she was going to be huge, and it would have been harder to keep her in the dark! And then...what about the labour?"

"I had hoped that we wouldn't reach that point," Xenophilius wailed, dissolving into tears. "I did such terrible things; made such terrible plans!"

"What did you do?" Aurora pressed, curiosity evident in her wide eyes.

"I laced peppermint tea with Lithium to try and induce a miscarriage," he admitted through hitched breaths. I could have used spells, of course I could - but I could risk harming Luna in the process."

"You could have harmed her by spiking her tea with _Lithium!_ "

"Oh, Merlin!" cried Xenophilius, and he threw his head forwards into his arms, sobbing loudly. Aurora blinked across the desk at the broken, elderly man. She couldn't believe that he had done this.

But oddly enough, she couldn't feel sympathetic—not for him or for Luna, despite the terrible things he had done. All Aurora could think of was those two unborn babies, which were inside Luna's womb, somewhere in the hospital.

oOo

Barty stood outside the door of his old home, the Crouch Manor, and looked up at the exterior. It had been a while since he had been here, and he was happy to be home. Once again, he was filled with the sense of Deja Vu that had overwhelmed him when he was first released from Azkaban. Prior to his incarceration, Barty would have been happy to never see his family home again.

But now the Crouch Manor held new memories; memories that he shared with Luna. Granted, not all of them were good memories—but the good outweighed the bad, he was sure of that.

He felt nerves fill him from tip to toe as he grasped the door-handle tentatively. Would Luna be inside? He had no idea. He'd heard nothing of her and it seemed that Doctor Babar hadn't either, so he didn't know whether she would be here, in the place that she had previously called her home, or if she'd returned to the Lovegood home. Even though Luna had left the home to stay at Rolf's apartment shortly before the incident, Barty had expected that she would return home once she had recovered in hospital.

Or worse—if something terrible had happened to her. But Barty didn't want to dwell on that.

He took a breath and pushed the door open, entering quickly. From first impressions, the house was untouched: the jar of Floo Powder above the fireplace had no signs of usage, there were no pots in the sink, and everything was covered with a thick layer of dust. "Luna?" he called into the house. He waited a few moments, but no one replied.

Dropping the suitcase that he had been carrying, he made his way up the stairs, heading for the bedroom at the very top floor. When he reached it, he noticed that the bed hadn't been used, and there wasn't a single item of Luna's on the shelves or dresser. The room was exactly the way it was when Barty had left it on the morning he went to Diagon Alley.

With a loud sigh, Barty threw himself face-first onto the bed, burying his face into the pillows. While it was nice to finally be back in his own bed and not in the stiff hospital bed, he couldn't enjoy it alone. He needed to find Luna, and get to the bottom of her disappearance.

But where did he start?

 _Tap, tap._

Barty grunted at the tapping sound that was coming from the window, exasperated.

 _Tap, tap._

"I'm coming!" he snapped, climbing up from the bed. He looked over at the large window and spotted a handsome brown owl standing on the ledge, clutching what appeared to be a colourful leaflet in its beak. Barty furrowed his brow and unlatched the window, allowing the bird to jump inside. He noticed that there was a small ribbon around the owl's neck, with a tiny medallion bearing the St. Mungo's crest on it. It dropped the leaflet quickly, and soared out of the window.

Barty grabbed folded leaflet, which he discovered was an information leaflet from St. Mungo's, and turned it over. A scribbled note was written on the back.

' _At St. Mungo's with Luna. Fourth Floor, Tilly Toke Ward. - R'_


	5. Seeing Clearly

_**Chapter Five  
**_ _ **Seeing Clearly**_

* * *

Barty stood impatiently in the long, winding queue for the reception, tapping his foot irritably. He'd been stood there for only a mere five minutes, but it felt like at least five hours. The patients in front of him were groaning, clutching their aching limbs and rubbing their sore wounds—something he was sure that they were only doing to further irritate him.

Finally, he threw his arms in the air angrily and stormed away from the queue, marching over to the sign which listed all of the floors and wards. After locating the floor he needed to be on, he sped off towards a door at the back of the entrance hall labelled 'hallway', after dismissing the idea of joining the equally long queue for the elevators.

He sped up four flights of stairs, jumping two steps at a time. By the time he reached the fourth floor he was exhausted—several weeks of sitting around in the clinic had done nothing for his physical health. He walked briskly across the wide, fourth floor corridor, until he was met with another reception. Luckily there was no queue for this one—just a single Mediwitch sitting behind the desk. Barty ignored her and averted his attention to the sign behind her, which labelled the wards which were on the fourth floor. However, in his haste to locate the Tilly Toke ward, he could barely read the small print.

"What wards are on this level?" he asked the Mediwitch impatiently.

"The closed Janus Thickey ward, the Tilly Toke ward for memory charms, the Flavius Belby ward for dangerously applied jinxes and charms—"

"—Tilly Toke," interrupted Barty. "Where is the Tilly Toke ward?"

The Mediwitch narrowed her eyes at him, her eyes flickering to his chest. "Excuse me sir, but you're not wearing a visitor's pin. Did you wait in line at reception downstairs?"

"I haven't got time for this," snarled Barty, pushing past the desk and heading for the double doors behind it. The Mediwitch stood up from her seat smartly, but Barty was already speeding down another corridor before she could shout out to him. Several other Healers and Medics attempted to stop him as he hurried through the wards, but Barty barely noticed them. He was too busy assessing the names of each ward he passed, trying to scope out the Tilly Toke ward.

Finally he reached the ward he was looking for, and he pushed through the doors. Right ahead of him was a large station, with several Healers stood behind it. "I'm looking for Luna Lovegood," he shouted as he rushed over to the large desk. "Where is she?"

"Wait!" a voice from behind Barty shouted, and he spun around, spotting the Mediwitch from the first reception desk. She was clearly out of breath, her hair falling out of it's previously tidy up-do. "That man hasn't signed in," she gasped, rubbing her throat. "He isn't wearing a visitors badge."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" Barty yelled, resisting the urge to pull out his wand and stun her. "I didn't have time to wait in the queue! I only want to see my—my—" Barty furrowed his brow angrily. "I only wanted to see Luna!"

"I'm sorry, sir," the receptionist continued. "But I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"Wait just a moment," another voice piped up. Barty looked over the Healer's Station, meeting the kindly eyes of an older, grey-haired Mediwitch. "The man just wants to make sure his loved one is okay, alright, Selena?" she glared pointedly at the receptionist. "Go back to the front desk. I'll deal with this." Selena rolled her eyes expressively, but silently left the Tilly Toke ward, heading back to the front of the fourth floor. Barty looked back at the older witch.

"Thanks for that," he muttered, feeling the knot of stress in his stomach loosening slightly. He couldn't meet the witch's eyes—he still hadn't properly learned how to accept help from a stranger yet. He still felt like aggression was the only way forward, but Doctor Babar had been teaching him a lot of new skills in therapy.

"Come with me," she walked from behind the desk, gesturing her head towards a short corridor lined with doors. As they walked that way together, she introduced herself. "I'm Adelaide Hibbert, the Healer in charge of this ward."

"Oh, I'm Bar—"

"—I know who you are," Adelaide replied, a small smile on her face. Barty closed his mouth slowly. "Don't worry, I'm not here to judge—and I don't read the trash that Rita Skeeter writes in the _Prophet_ , either."

Barty tried his best not to look relieved, but his expression must have softened, as Adelaide's smile widened. "So, which room is Luna in? I need to see her urgently."

"Barty, Luna has been moved."

"What?" Barty's eyes widened considerably, and he looked around wildly. "Where? _Why?_ Why didn't you tell me back there?" He pulled the scrap of paper from his pocket, which Rolf had sent the message on. He was beginning to think that Rolf was making a mockery of him—perhaps he knew that Luna was going to be moved, and was deliberately causing Barty to stall by not telling him.

Adelaide held her hands up. "Please, hear me out. You'll still have time to get to her, don't worry."

"Where is she?" Barty snapped.

"She's been taken to the Mnemosyne Clinic for Memory Modification," Adelaide replied. "As it were, the memory charms inflicted on her were far too intricate for any of the Healer's at this hospital to dare try and undo. We preferred for her to be seen by an expert—someone who can fully unwind all of the false memories that her father planted in her brain."

Barty grabbed Adelaide by the shoulders suddenly, and her smile faded. "What? What happened to her? What did that bastard do to her?" he shook her lightly, and Adelaide brushed him off, looking suddenly stern. Her expression softened, however, when she noticed Barty's chestnut eyes filling with tears.

"Has no-one told you?"

Barty shook his head. "I've...I've been...I've only just been let out of the Psych Unit this morning," he whispered hoarsely.

"It isn't my place to tell you," said Adelaide carefully, placing her hand comfortingly on Barty's shoulders. "The Memory Clinic is in Diagon Alley. You should get there quickly."

Barty nodded, blinking back his tears furiously. As he headed out of the Tilly Toke ward, his initial anxiety at been unable to find Luna was replaced with anger; pure, venomous anger.

"If that old bastard has hurt her," he murmured to himself, clenching his fists. "I will _kill_ him."

oOo

Rolf paced the hallway of the corridor he was waiting in, outside the room that a specialist memory Healer had taken Luna into. He was at the Mnemosyne Memory Clinic, and Aurora was standing beside the door, rolling her eyes at him.

"Will you stop walking backwards and forwards," she demanded in her drawling accent, grabbing his upper arm as he passed her for what seemed like the billionth time. She dragged him over to her, so that he was leaning against the wall beside her. "You're driving me _crazy_."

"Why are you here?" Rolf asked suddenly, narrowing his grey eyes at Aurora. "I mean, you didn't have to come. Don't you have things to be doing - like trying to find a Pensieve for those memories that Barty gave you?"

"Nothing has changed since since this morning, Rolf," she snapped. "Pensieves aren't just _lying_ around." Aurora wasn't going to tell Rolf this, but she was a little nervous about what the memories would hold. She wasn't entirely sure she was ready to see her mother in anything but the rose-tinted light she had always viewed her in.

"I was going to ask Xenophilius about it this morning," Rolf continued idly, running a hand through his dishevelled hair. "If anyone would have something like that, I thought it would be him. Though, I never spotted one while I was working on the _Quibbler_ with Luna."

At the mention of Xenophilius, Aurora suddenly seemed to retract into herself. She lifted her hands to her face, picking at a hangnail on her thumb vigorously.

"What's the matter with you?" Rolf asked, taking hold of the hand with the broken nail. He entwined his fingers within hers and pulled her around, so that she was leaning against his body. "Why are you suddenly so fidgety?" A thought crossed his mind, and he lifted an eyebrow. "Did you see Xeno in the hospital."

Aurora shrugged. "I couldn't really miss him. He was grumbling and moaning so loudly in that Security Office."

"At least they were keeping him restrained. Did he see you?"

"I went in to see him," Aurora confessed, and Rolf shot her an odd look. "Oh, don't look at me like that! Everyone treats me like such an alien around here. I didn't know who he was, did I? I just saw that he seemed to be in a bit of a state, so I went in to talk to him."

"What did he say to you?"

Aurora shrugged again, a little more determinedly this time. She averted her gaze from Rolf's, pressing her lips together.

"Aurora?" pressed Rolf. She groaned loudly, pouting a little.

"Luna is _pregnant,_ Rolf," she hissed. "Xenophilius told me that. Pregnant with _twins._ "

Both of Rolf's eyebrows shot up, disappearing beneath his fringe. He stared at Aurora, dumbfounded for a moment, before pulling away from the wall, resuming his pacing steps up and down the hallway. "She's...she's _what?_ "

Aurora nodded.

"So...so that's why Xenophilius has been messing with her mind?"

"Well, obviously he was upset with what Barty did to her," Aurora told him. "He just wanted Luna back - just wanted her to go back to normal. He was just going to modify her memory until...until she gave birth..."

"So that he could get rid of her babies?" Rolf looked mortified.

"That's not all," Aurora continued. "He...he tried to...to _attempt_ to get rid of the babies. Before she could give birth to them."

"I can't believe it," Rolf began to pace the hall faster, pulling at loose strands of hair from his head. "I can't believe he would do that...to his own _daughter..._ he could have killed her! Luna might not get her memories back! What if the Healer can't help her?"

"Rolf, calm down," Aurora jumped away from the wall, trying to match Rolf's pace. "It's not the end of the world. Luna will be fine, and maybe it's for the best if she doesn't have the babies? Xenophilius was just trying to do what he thought was the best for her...maybe he was right. Luna and Barty can't look after two babies," Aurora scoffed. "It would be better if someone else adopted them?"

Rolf spun around, glaring at Aurora. "Wh...what are you saying, Aurora?" he backed away from her, his grey gaze suddenly harsh and cruel. "What do you know? You don't _know_ Luna. You don't even know Xenophilius, after this one little chat you've had with him! How can you stick up for that bastard after what he's done to Luna?!"

Aurora opened her mouth to reply, but no words came to her lips. He was right, after all. What gave her the right to make such remarks?

"What has he done to Luna?" a sudden booming voice echoed from the other side of the corridor, and Aurora and Rolf spun around suddenly. Barty was speeding down the hallway, the tails of his brown coat flapping behind him and his dark eyes filled with rage.

He advanced upon Aurora, but pushed her out of the way, heading straight for Rolf. As soon as he was within touching distance of him, Barty grabbed Rolf by the scruff of his neck and slammed him against the wall, tightening his hands around his neck. "What has he done?" he snarled, spraying spit into Rolf's face.

Rolf began to choke out what Aurora had just told him, in a quick, garbled voice. "H-he's been messing with her h-head," he spluttered. "Trying...trying t-to make her forget what h-happened, with you."

"What happened with me?" Barty yelled, shaking him. "There must be something else!"

Rolf met Aurora's eyes over Barty's shoulders. He wasn't going to be the one to tell Barty that Luna was pregnant. It wasn't his place. "I-It's not...it's not for me to s-say..."

"Tell me!" Barty was almost screaming now as he shook Rolf more vigorously, banging his head against the wall.

"Leave him alone!" Aurora shrieked suddenly, rushing up behind Barty. Before Barty could comprehend what was happening, Aurora had taken a flying leap at her potential father, wrapping her arms around his neck from behind. He staggered backwards, releasing Rolf, who rubbed his throat graciously.

"Get...off...me...stupid girl..." Barty hissed, trying to grab at Aurora's arms. He finally got a grip on her and pulled her around to the front of him, pushing her to the ground. When she was floored, he spun back around to face Rolf, throwing his hand in his pocket to grab his wand.

"She's pregnant!" Aurora screeched from the ground, before Barty could attempt to curse Rolf. "She's pregnant."

"Wh...what?" Barty backed away from Rolf slowly, his eyes widening. Casting one last glance from Rolf to Aurora, he turned on his heel and charged out of the clinic.

oOo

In a hospital room within the Mnemosyne Memory Clinic, a Mediwitch drew the last, addled thought from Luna's brain. She used her wand for the procedure carefully, pressing the tip gently to a point on Luna's temple, and withdrawing it slowly. A long, thin white strand was pulled from Luna's head—only, instead of being purely white, the strand was interlaced with traces of pink and red.

"Why is it like that?" a junior Healer asked the Mediwitch quietly. He was holding out a mostly empty ceramic bowl, with Latin inscriptions etched into it. The shallow pool at the bottom of the bowl was swimming with other memories, all threaded with pale pink and blood red.

"It's where the charms have caused significant damage to her memories," the Mediwitch replied quietly. "We won't know for sure just how damaged her mind is now, but it could be anything from remote to significant."

"What—just with her memories, or with her mind as a whole?"

The Mediwitch had a grave look on her face. "Only time will tell. For all we know, there could be a dramatic change in her personality as a whole. Too many lies have been weaved into her head, and no matter careful her father was...there are things placed into her brain that weren't meant to be there, but quickly became part of her life, and now we're tearing them out of her head."

As the Mediwitch carefully pointed her wand into the bowl, detaching the memory into Pensieve, Luna's forehead began to crinkle. "She's waking up," the junior observed.

"Take the Pensieve away and dispose of the false memories," the Mediwitch ordered quietly. "She doesn't need access to them any longer."

The junior nodded and hurried out of the room, clutching the Pensieve to his chest, and the Mediwitch took a seat beside Luna. Slowly, her lashes fluttered and her eyelids snapped open. For a moment, her silver-grey eyes were vacant and lost, as if she were still stuck deep in Xenophilius's trance. But suddenly her fists clenched, and she jerked up into a sitting position, yanking violently at the various wires which were attached to her body.

The Mediwitch lunged forwards, gripping Luna by the shoulders. "Calm down, Miss Lovegood—you're not in danger—you're in the hospital."

Luna choked on air, as though she were suddenly gulping down oxygen for the first time in a while. Her body steadied slowly and she clutched at the Mediwitch's hands, her skin beginning to shiver and her eyes welling with tears.

"B...Barty..." she gasped, before her eyes fell shut. Once again, she slipped into a slumber.'


	6. Reunion

_**Chapter Six  
**_ _ **Reunion**_

Barty sat quietly on a bench in front of the clinic, facing the Muggle-repelling exterior. The clinic hadn't exactly been in Diagon Alley like the Mediwitch at St. Mungo's had said; it was actually a few streets away fromthe Leaky Cauldron, in a Muggle-inhabited area. From this distance, the Mnemosyne Memory Clinic looked nothing like any kind of health service. It didn't look like an intriguing abandoned building either, which was a common glamour for wizarding locations. Instead, the clinic appeared as a very dull, concrete office block in a boring shade of grey. The windows were foggy with dirt and dust, making it impossible to see inside. Any Muggle would walk straight past the building—it essentially blended into the equally dull, grey background.

He squinted as he saw the doors opening, wondering who was coming out. A sigh escaped his throat when he realised who it was—Rolf.

Rolf Scamander hobbled towards him, walking awkwardly on one leg as though he had a limp. As he got closer, Barty noticed that he had pale, thin scars on his face and upper arms. These were clearly battle scars, from his clash with Barty in Diagon Alley.

That day seemed like _years_ ago.

Rolf lowered himself onto the bench. Once he was sat next to Barty, the two sat in silence for a while. Eventually, Rolf rustled in his pocket for something, and pulled out a packet of cigarettes. He stuck one in his mouth and offered the pack to Barty.

Barty eyed Rolf hesitantly, but took one regardless. "I didn't know good guys like you smoked," he commented, poking the cigarette between his lips.

Rolf laughed bitterly. "Well, certain stresses caused me to start." He lit the end of his cigarette with his wand, and then offered the light to Barty, who took it. "I just came to let you know that Luna woke up," he told Barty, taking a deep drag on his cigarette. "She only woke back up for a moment, but the Mediwitch told me that she is confident they got the false memories out of her head. She'll talk to you about it, though."

"I'm not going back in there yet," Barty muttered, pressing his lips together. "Did Luna say anything, when she woke up?"

"She called for you," Rolf said quietly, and Barty felt his heartstrings being tugged. He wanted nothing more than to run back into the clinic and throw himself around Luna, protecting her, soothing her. But something stopped him. The knowledge of the two vulnerable foetuses in Luna's womb _terrified_ him.

How could he be a father? He'd made terrible choices in his life, and done terrible things. Barty was damaged, deranged, deluded. He had lost his right to have children when he accepted the dark mark and pledged his loyalty to Voldemort.

Luna was too pure for him. She emitted love and light and all things good. She deserved someone like _Rolf._ Barty was sure that he would only ruin her. He didn't want to see her in such a vulnerable, needy state. Luna had always been the strength of their relationship. How would they survive if they were both broken?

Barty's attention was brought back to the present as he felt Rolf shifting beside him. He stood up, nodding to Barty and flicking his tab-end down the banking, and made to head back inside.

"Wait," Barty heard himself saying before he could stop himself. Rolf stopped, glancing back at him. Barty took a deep breath, and averted Rolf's lazy, grey gaze. "I'm...what I want to say is...I mean..." he racked his brains, thinking of all the sessions he'd had with Doctor Babar, and how much they'd worked on Barty feeling remorse for what happened at Diagon Alley. "I...I really _regret_ what I did at Diagon Alley."

Rolf cocked an eyebrow, but his lips spread into grin. "That's the closest I'm going to get to an apology, huh?"

Barty snickered quietly, and nodded. "We're not going to ever be friends," he added warningly, before Rolf could get any ideas. Rolf looked appalled at the very idea.

"Of course not," he replied. "But I'm Luna's friend, and you're...well, you're in Luna's life. So we have to make an effort to get along for her benefit. Especially now that things have taken a bit of a drastic turn for her. We have to be there for her."

Barty nodded slowly. He was still a little unsure as to how he was ever going to deal with Luna being broken, and he was hoping and praying that she would make an urgent recovery.

Rolf hesitated before making to head back into the clinic. "Look, it's none of my business..." he started, and Barty narrowed his eyes. "You should talk to Aurora."

Barty groaned, rolling his eyes. "I'm _spoken_ to her!" he snapped, feeling suddenly angry. "I've given her the memories of her mother. I've told her the truth. Her father was Regulus Black, and Regulus is long gone. I can't help her anymore. It's not my problem."

Rolf shrugs, pursing her lips. "I know. And I guess she knows that deep down. But won't you consider doing the paternity test anyway?"

With another loud sigh, Barty closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his finger and thumb. He was desperately trying to minimise his anger, but all he wanted to do right now was curse Rolf out of the atmosphere. "I've only just been released from a psychiatric unit," he said in a low, dangerous voice, speaking through gritted teeth. "A lot has happened. The only person I've ever truly loved has been hurt by someone she should have been able to trust. She's _pregnant_. I'm going to be a father, and I'm not ready for that. Aurora is...she's being selfish, Scamander!"

Rolf crossed his arms over his chest. "I know it might look like that to you, but she's come all the way from Australia after her mother died. She just wants to find out the truth."

"I've told her the truth!" Barty hissed.

Rolf shrugged. "I know...but I think she needs a little more proof than your word," he finished, and started to walk back into the clinic before Barty could say another word. With another angry groan, Barty threw himself back onto the bench, reaching up and fisting his hands in his hair. After a moment, he stretched out on the bench, staring up at the sky.

How had all of this happened?

He laid on the bench for what seemed like hours. The sun moved in the sky overhead, and before long the air around him had dropped in temperature. Barty sat up, wrapping his arms around himself and shivering, as he stared over at the clinic.

Luna was laid on a hospital bed inside that clinic, probably confused and shocked as to how she'd come to be there. He didn't know what the process of returning her memories to her entailed, but he doubted it was a simple procedure. She might be traumatised, hurting, in pain.

Barty gnashed his teeth together furiously, hating Xenophilius, hating Rolf, hating _himself_. He had the nerve to call Aurora selfish—but wasn't _he_ the one who was being completely selfish? Luna was going through a dark patch right now, something that wasn't her fault. The babies weren't just hers—he had done his part in creating them too. She was alone and vulnerable, and she probably _needed_ him. Luna had stuck by his side through even darker, more dangerous moments—when he could've killed her and when he tried to kill himself. He hurt her physically and tortured her mentally, but she still focused on the tiny specks of light that were within his psyche. She stayed with him.

So why wasn't he in there with her?

He was a coward.

Balling his hands into fists, he climbed to his feet and walked determinedly into the clinic. He wasn't going to feel sorry for himself anymore—it was time to start acting like Luna; strong and confident. It was his turn to look after _her_.

oOo

The receptionist in the Mnemosyne Clinic was a lot kinder than the stony-faced one from Doctor Babar's Psychiatric Unit. She was young, not much older than Luna, and she was short, plump and very smiley. There wasn't a trace of red lipstick on her lips or teeth, unlike Doctor Babar's receptionist, and Barty felt automatically comfortable around her. She grinned toothily as he advanced upon the reception desk. "Oh, Mr Crouch—I wondered when you were going to make an appearance. I suppose you want to see Luna?"

Barty blinked, momentarily stunned. "You know who I am?" he questioned, slightly suspiciously.

"Mr Scamander alerted me that you were sitting outside before he left with his girlfriend," she chirped pleasantly. "Now, I just have to ask you some questions before we let you speak to the Mediwitch who healed Luna."

"What?" snapped Barty impatiently. "Rolf got to see Luna—just let me go through!"

The receptionist's face became suddenly quite strict. "No, he didn't, Mr Crouch. The Mediwitch remained in contact with Rolf, as he was the one who brought her in when she was referred from St. Mungo's, but he didn't see her. The problem being that he is not her next of kin."

"Next of kin?" Barty replied dubiously. "But...wouldn't that be her father?"

"Naturally," the receptionist went on. "But Mr Lovegood is in Ministry custody for his actions. Also, the Mediwitch who treated Luna isn't allowing Mr Lovegood access to his daughter whilst she's in this clinic, due to him being the reason that she is here in the first place."

"Right," murmured Barty, his shoulders relaxing. "So...what next?"

The receptionist furrowed her eyebrows together, glaring at Barty as though he was someone particularly dim. "Well, you live with Luna, don't you? I mean..." she looked down at something on the desk that Barty couldn't see, but he assumed it was a stack of papers with Luna's details upon it, and probably some of his. "You _lived_ with Luna, before you went into hospital. But you were released today, if I'm correct? So Luna would be returning home with you?"

Barty nodded furiously. "Well—that's the plan. I mean, I thought Luna would be home when I left the hospital anyway, but all of this had happened."

The receptionist nodded sympathetically. "I'm satisfied that you can go down as Luna's next of kin. If you'll just take a seat over there, I'll contact Luna's Mediwitch, and she'll be in to see you shortly."

She turned away from Barty, automatically ending the conversation. Although Barty wanted nothing more than to burst through the double doors behind her and search for Luna himself, he resisted the urge. He was going to see her. He just had to be patient—like Luna was patient.

About ten minutes passed before the Mediwitch arrived in reception, and when she did, she walked straight towards Barty and extended her hand, giving him a firm handshake. She was taller than him when he stood up, with a muscular build that made Barty wonder if she would be better suited as an Auror than a Healer, but he didn't comment. Her jet-black hair was thin and tied back in a bun at the back of her neck, and she was wearing a cap with the Mnemosyne Clinic emblem on it. "Mr Crouch," she greeted, her voice was deep and gravelly. "My name is Madeline Bulstrode. I was the Mediwitch who treated Luna. Follow me, please." She began walking swiftly down the corridor which she had just come from, and Barty hurried to keep up with her.

She led him through a series of corridors, until they reached the one which Barty had just earlier on discovered Rolf and Aurora waiting for Luna. The door which he had presumed Luna to be behind was just in front of him, and his heart jumped—but Madeline kept walking straight past the door. "She's not in there," she told him sternly, without even turning to look at him. "That is a treatment room, and Luna's treatment is over. She's been moved to a resting room for now."

Barty didn't reply, but allowed his gaze to be torn away from the door. Madeline led him further down the corridor until they came to a large, plush office, and she gestured for him to sit inside.

"I thought you were taking me to Luna?" he snapped, looking around angrily. He was beginning to feel more and more nervous about meeting her; his earlier pang of confidence was declining.

"We just have to get some paperwork out of the way first." Madeline opened a drawer on her desk and pulled out a form, and began jotting a few notes down with a pencil that had been stuck behind her ear for safekeeping. "Now, I will be signing Luna off into your care—can you confirm for me that you are willing to accept care of Luna Lovegood?"

Barty was suddenly overwhelmed with shock. Of course, he had expected this—but it sounded like such a huge responsibility when put to him in this manner. He had only just been discharged from the hospital, and before then he hadn't been out of a high security prison for that long, either. Was the Ministry really going to allow him to look after a young woman and her children?

 _His_ children, Barty reminded himself. The Ministry, Doctor Babar, John Dawlish—no one mattered anymore but Luna and his children.

"Of course," he replied slowly. "I accept."

"Then sign your name here, please," Madeline ordered, pushing the form towards him and handing him the pencil. He carefully scripted his signature at the bottom of the paper, and Madeline folded it up, placing it back inside her desk drawer safely. "Do you have any questions before we go down to see Luna?"

Barty leaned against her desk, thinking. He did desperately want to see her, but there were things he wanted to know first. "Well...is she completely back to normal? Did you fix her? Will she remember anything that happened with her father?"

"We can't say for sure just yet," Madeline answered. "All cases of memory loss are very different, but we should remember that the mind is a fragile thing, and isn't created to be addled. In the best case scenario, Luna will make a full recovery, as the memory charms that Mr Lovegood was performing upon her were very cleanly applied."

"Well, I suppose we should thank him for charming her _cleanly_ ," Barty echoed sarcastically.

Madeline ignored him. "Side effects will vary, but only time will tell how bad they will be. She is likely to suffer from flashbacks and night terrors, as her brain will be recuperating from the memory loss over the next few months, and she will be very easily affected by triggering memories that may have occurred during the time spent with her father, or anything upsetting that could of happened to her in her past.

"In the worst case scenario," Madeline drew a breath, and looked a little hesitant to continue. "Some patients in similar situations to Luna's have experienced adverse changes to their personality, as they have become so adapted by the new, forged memories that were being placed in their psyche."

"What do you mean?"

"It really depends on what kind of memories Mr Lovegood was putting in her head," responded Madeline. "For example, as time wears on...she may struggle to adapt to her pregnancy, or even feel no connection to her babies at all. I only say this, because when my junior observed the false memories, he noticed a distinct focus on avoiding the pregnancy at all."

Barty bit his bottom lip. "I suppose it's a risk we'll have to take."

"Like I said, that's only the worst case scenario. So, I'll take you down to see her—"

"—wait!" a voice cried shrilly. Both Madeline and Barty turned towards the door to see the pudgy receptionist, looking a little red in the face and breathless. "I'm sorry, ma'am," she apologised. "I tried to stop him, but he _insisted."_

"Yes, I did," a male voice continued. To Barty's shock, John Dawlish walked through the door of Madeline's office, and sat himself down neatly on the free chair. "Nice to meet you, Mrs Bulstrode—my name is John Dawlish, and I'm assigned as Barty's WatchWizard." He stuck a hand out to shake Madeline's, but she only raised an eyebrow at him.

"It's _Miss_ Bulstrode, actually," she corrected primly, as he slowly drew back his hand. "What is the meaning of this—bursting to my office when I am discussing sensitive, private issues with someone!"

"As I said, I'm Barty's WatchWizard. I was _supposed_ to meet Barty when he left the Psychiatric Unit," he shot Barty a glare. "But he wasn't there when I arrived."

"I've been a little busy," hissed Barty through gritted teeth. "And you are _not_ my WatchWizard," he added. He remembered all too well the day that he had opened his heart to John Dawlish. The latter had shunned him, deciding that dealing with Barty's psychiatric problems wasn't in his job description.

"Yes, I'm aware," Dawlish continued, ignoring Barty's last comment. "I came here after learning about the issue at hand, to make you aware that Barty is in no fit state to look after another human being."

Both Madeline and Barty exchanged glances before directing stares at Dawlish. Barty could feel fury boiling up inside him. "So what, I just send her back to live with her dad after he is no doubt let off for his crimes?" he yelled, spraying spit in Dawlish's face. "So he can wipe her memory some more, and maybe kill the babies in her womb!"

At the mention of babies and Luna's womb, Dawlish's face paled. "I wasn't aware of a pregnancy," he muttered. "But you didn't let me finish."

"So finish!" snapped Madeline. "I don't have all day, you know!"

"On his own, Barty would be in no fit state to look after her. But with my careful, watchful eye upon the situation, I can see no problem with him living back in his manor house with Luna."

"Is that all?" Madeline replied, sounding bored and frustrated. "You burst in here to tell me that everything was fine? You couldn't have had this conversation with Barty later on, at home?"

John Dawlish stood up and brushed his coat down. "I'll be seeing you within the next few days, Barty," he said, giving Barty a short nod. He exited the room swiftly, closing the door sharply behind him.

"Well, now that's over with," Madeline continued, glaring at the space where Dawlish had just been. "I'll take you to see Luna."

oOo

The resting room where Madeline said that Luna was being held seemed to go underground, as she led Barty down several flights of stairs, into corridors that had no windows. Despite this, the below-ground level still seemed to have an air of warmth to it; clusters of candles were placed in hollows in the walls, and the corridors were lined with artwork and paintings. The larger rooms in the clinic appeared to be recreational rooms, similar to the ones at Doctor Babar's clinics—some had nothing but cushioned seats and sofas within them, but one had a game table and tables and chairs. Barty didn't see any other patients as they made their way through the hallways—he guess that this kind of clinic wasn't somewhere that patients had long-term stays.

"Here we are," Madeline finally said, as they came to a door at the end of a corridor. "After you."

Taking a deep breath, Barty gripped the door handle. He wasn't entirely sure what he expected to see on the other side—how long had it been since she was pregnant? Would she have a giant, swollen belly? Would she look any different because of the memory loss? He half hoped that she would be asleep for the first time visiting her in such a while, because he wasn't sure he could bear it if any of the adverse personality effects that Madeline had spoken about were present.

The small bedroom was nothing like the hospital room that Barty imagined. It was decorated in pastel shades of yellow and cream, and the single wooden bed in the middle of the room had a floral bedspread on it. The covers were made neatly, with the cushion propped up against the headboard. A white wicker chair sat by the bed, but Luna was neither upon the bed or in the chair.

"Barty!" a voice shrieked suddenly, and Barty became momentarily aware of a mass of thick, pale blonde hair clouding his vision. He was almost toppled over with the shock of sudden weight of another human being, and the smell of lavender shampoo filled his nostrils. He pulled back, and a familiar heart-shaped face loomed into view, a set of wide, silvery eyes gazing up at him.

Luna looked nothing like what he envisioned. At the very least, he'd expected her to be in bed, looking sickly. But instead, her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were flashing, and she was wearing her long hair loosely around her shoulders. Instead of hospital pyjamas or a robe, she was dressed properly in a baggy vest top and pale blue jeans, and Barty had never been so thrilled to see the string of Butterbeer corks around her neck.

"Luna," he exclaimed. Uncaring that Madeline Bulstrode was stood right beside him, he grabbed her face with both hands and pulled her chin towards him, crashing his lips into hers.

It felt blissful to finally kiss her after so many months. She was warm and pliable and soft, and to him, she represented everything good in the world. He could feel her smiling into his mouth, and her arms entwined around his neck, drawing him closer. As he kissed her, Barty felt a jolt of irritation towards Madeline. How could she have made him worry about there being a change in Luna?

When Luna pulled away, her lips were tinged red. "I'm so happy to see you," she whispered, her wide eyes looking watery. "I'm...I'm sorry I didn't come to see you at the unit, Barty," she told him. "I...I didn't..."

Barty pressed his lips against hers again, silencing her. "It's okay," he soothed, pushing a strand of hair out of her face. "It wasn't your fault."

"You're not angry with me?"

"Maybe I was a little," Barty replied, chuckling. "At first. But it doesn't matter anymore. We're going home, Luna."


	7. Orders of the Court

_**Chapter Seven  
**_ _ **Orders of the Court**_

It had been a pleasant day for Ginny Weasley. She hadn't done much, just lolled around the Burrow with her mother, waiting for Harry to return from work. When he had done so, surprisingly early, they'd enjoyed a brisk walk around the fields together, and were ready to enjoy dinner, which was being cooked up by Molly. Ginny sat back in her chair at the dining table, sighing happily.

Things were looking up for her. She hadn't seen or heard anything from Luna, and even though that worried her a little, she knew that it was best if she kept her distance. Things were most likely still going to be tender between them, especially after what she did to Barty's potion. Barty was safely locked away in a medical institute, and even though Harry often complained about how he should have been returned straight back to Azkaban, Ginny didn't care. He was out of her life, and if he was locked away, he was out of Luna's.

They might not be talking at the moment, but Ginny still cared a lot for her friend.

Harry sat down beside her and squeezed her hand, before looking out of the window. "The post is late today," he commented, and Molly made small conversation with him about how Errol hadn't emerged from his sleeping spot in the yard until lunch time. Ginny smiled as she watched her husband chat animatedly with her mother—she knew how much Harry loved being here, surrounded by the bustle of family.

She, on the other hand, had big hopes for moving out. She wanted to settle down now that she and Harry were married. She wanted to decorate a living room together, have a kitchen or a bathroom to themselves—just have some alone time. Alone time was hard to come by, when traffic was often rushing through the Burrow.

Harry had spent a great deal of time attempting to renovate Grimmauld Place in the past several months, and she had even told him that she would be happy to live there, even if it was just temporary until they found somewhere permanent. He told her in apologetic tones, that they couldn't live there, unfortunately. It seemed that the Administration department at the Ministry had become recently aware of another possible heir to the Black family property, and Harry, who wasn't a blood relative, wouldn't be first in line to claim the house.

Ginny's thoughts returned to the present as she focused on a dark speck outside, which was growing larger as it grew closer to the house. A large, handsome owl jumped onto the window ledge a few moments after, clutching a thick envelope in it's beak. A medallion with the Ministry for Magic emblem on it was around the birds neck. Molly automatically reached for the envelope, allowing the owl to immediately fly away from the window. "It's for you, Ginny, dear."

Ginny furrowed her brow as she took the envelope and turned it over in her hands. What could the Ministry want from her? Shrugging, she carefully sliced open the envelope, and slid two pieces of parchment out into her hands.

 _Dear Mrs. Ginevra Molly Potter,_

 _This is a court order, demanding your presence in front of the Wizengamot. The date will be shown at the end of the letter._

 _As you are aware, you recently committed the following offence:_

 _Contaminating and replacing a fellow wizard's important medical potion. As you were aware, the Calming Draught prescribed to Mr. Bartemius Crouch Junior was an important factor in his day-to-day life. Upon removing this product and leading him to believe that he was still taking the potion, Mr. Bartemius Crouch Junior went on to suffer a distinct mental breakdown, which has been diagnosed by psychiatric expert Dr. Amir Babar._

 _It is Dr. Babar's belief that the disruption in his chemical balance was partially what caused the attack on Mr. Rolf Scamander in Diagon Alley._

 _The Wizengamot will assess whether you should serve a prison sentence for your crime against Mr. Crouch. You can expect that Dr. Babar will lead the Wizengamot, as the nature of the offence is in his profession._

 _It is suggested, that in the week before your court date, you should find as many people to bear witness for you in court._

 _Yours sincerely,_

 _Percy Weasley_

 _Personal Assistant to the Minister of Magic._

Ginny dropped the letter to the table, her face paling. Harry raised an eyebrow in her direction. "Ginny? What is it?"

"I..." Ginny was speechless. She had never expected that she would have to attend court for what she did to Barty's potion. In fact, she had almost forgotten about it entirely. It often sprang to mind during moments of guilt, but she thought that she would just always have to suffer in silence for her misgivings. She never in a million years thought that the Ministry would actually do something about it.

Harry grabbed the letter, and she watched as his green eyes scanned left-to-right quickly, absorbing the information. His frown grew more and more prominent as he got further down the letter, and he finally threw it down on the table. "This is ridiculous," he snapped. "They can't give you a Hearing for this."

"Hearing for what?" Molly piped up, sitting down on Ginny's other side. Harry quickly explained the letter to Molly, and she shook her head indignantly. "Arthur!" she yelled out of the open kitchen window, and Arthur Weasley quickly made his way up from the shed at the bottom of the garden. "Why didn't you tell us that Ginny has a Hearing in front of the Wizengamot?" she demanded to know as soon as he walked into the kitchen. She slapped the letter into his chest, and the colour drained from his face as he read through it.

"I...I thought it was just a scare tactic," he admitted. "I'd heard rumours, but no confirmation. I didn't want to mention anything in case I was wrong," he thumbed the bottom of the letter, pointing to Percy's name. "I imagine Percy feels the same way."

"Just wait until I get my hands on that boy!" seethed Molly. "Sending his only sister such a horrid letter!"

"It won't be his fault, Mol," Arthur said, forcing Molly down onto a chair by her shoulders. "Percy sends out most of Kingsley's letters, especially if Kingsley is going to be in the Wizengamot for the Hearing."

" _Kingsley?"_ Molly and Harry both shrieked at the same time. "How could he do this to Ginny?" Harry continued, the rage evident on his features. "He's a member of the Order of the Phoenix. He's supposed to be _against_ Death Eaters."

"This isn't about Death Eaters and the Order of the Phoenix anymore, Harry," Arthur said quietly. "In the eyes of the law, Barty is a seriously ill individual. His actions have been judged to be caused by insanity, so it's hard for them to see him as a criminal—especially not now that Dr. Babar is involved."

"Dr. Babar," Molly scoffed. "Why does he have the right to lead this case? Ginny had good intentions when she did what she did—she just wanted to help Luna get out of a bad situation. Her actions were made in rage and emotion—doesn't that account for anything?"

"I suppose it depends on what Dr. Babar says in court," Arthur replied meekly. He was looking over at his daughter, who had remained silent during the outburst. "I know it seems like he is siding with a criminal, but Dr. Babar is actually making a lot of progress in the Wizarding World as we know it. He has been spending most of his free time in the Wizengamot, learning the laws and even having a hand in rewriting some of them when it comes down to psychiatric evaluation. He's been hosting Ministry seminars on psychiatry too, to educate the Wizengamot and future witches and wizards who want to be part of the court."

"Well, I see you're well and truly on Barty's side," sneered Molly, looking quite irritated with her husband. She stood up and went to stand behind her daughter, placing her hands on her shoulders protectively. "Don't worry, dear. We'll sort this all out."

Ginny bit her lip and shrugged her mother's hand away, standing up from her seat. She didn't speak or look at anyone in her family, choosing instead to walk out of the kitchen and head upstairs to her bedroom, closing the door behind her. She went over to the window and stared out into the distance, squinting at the hills that she knew obscured the Lovegood residence.

She had the urge to write to Luna—to apologise, express her sorrows profoundly, anything. At that moment, all she wanted was her friend.

oOo

When Barty and Luna apparated to the front of the Crouch Manor, they spent a few moments in silence, looking up at the big old house quietly. Luna was quietly observing the topmost room with the large window, when a distinct 'pop!' echoed from behind them. Barty turned to face John Dawlish, who was wearing a grin that didn't quite meet his eyes.

"What do you want?" snapped Barty, standing in front of Luna protectively. He could already see that Dawlish's curious eyes were scanning down the front of Luna's body, trying to detect any hint of her pregnancy.

"I just came to make sure you're getting settled back in alright," Dawlish drawled. "After all, neither of you have been..." he seemed momentarily stuck for words. "Well, _involved_ with society for a while." He paused, waiting for Barty to reply, but he didn't. "Well. Shall we go in and have a cup of tea?"

Barty was about to open his mouth and tell Dawlish to shove it, but he was quietened by Luna, who placed a small hand on his shoulder, smiling up at him. The silent gesture calmed him, and he shot a pursed-lipped glare at Dawlish. "Fine. I suppose we need to discuss this business about you being my WatchWizard." He turned and proceeded to unlock the front door, striding in and kicking of his shoes.

Luna also took off her shoes and hurried through into the living room, but Dawlish stomped through, tracking mud and dust into the carpet. Barty closed his eyes for a moment, trying to force down the urge to scream bloody murder at his 'WatchWizard'.

While Luna began to reacquaint herself with the house, venturing through the kitchen, Barty sat down on the armchair opposite Dawlish, who had slumped down on the couch. When it became evident that Barty wasn't going to offer him the cup of tea that he'd been hoping for, he cleared his throat and began to speak. "So, arrangements...we've been through all the regulations of my post before, but there are some changes this time. The Minister has requested that I provide you with around the clock care. Obviously, this isn't something that we would both easily agree on, so I've come up with a good solution." He pulled two plain blue buttons from his coat pocket, and gave a triumphant nod. "This is your button, this is mine. They act as...well, like a communications device. You just press your button, and it will send a vibration through to mine, and I'll know that you need me to pop round."

Barty was only partially listening to Dawlish waffle on about buttons - he had glanced through the archway into the kitchen and noticed that Luna was hovering near the kitchen table. She was stroking the wood softly, wearing a vacant, knowing smile on her face. Barty couldn't help but grin—he knew she was remembering how they had put that kitchen table to use.

"Barty, are you listening?"

Barty turned his attention back to Dawlish, though reluctantly. "There will be no need for you to 'pop' anywhere," he said, folding his arms across his chest. "Because you are not my WatchWizard."

"Well, I am, Barty," Dawlish leaned back. He had that grin on his face again, and Barty wanted nothing more than to punch him straight in the mouth.

"Don't you remember how much you _humiliated_ me, just a few months ago?" Barty snapped. "How you turned me down when I went to my WatchWizard - the person who is supposed to be giving me dutiful attention and care? Do you remember how after you shunned me that day, I tried to kill myself?" Before Dawlish could reply, Barty whipped up the sleeve of his left arm, exposing several ugly scars, marring the faded Dark Mark. Dawlish remained silent, his mouth hanging open. "I said, you are _not_ my WatchWizard," continued Barty, pulling his sleeve back down. "I'll apply to the Ministry for a change, and until then, I'll just keep seeing Doctor Babar."

Dawlish laughed haughtily. "You can't do that," he told Barty, though his voice wasn't convincing. There was a distinct wobble to the tone. "Babar isn't in the same position as I am. I was personally asked by Kingsley Shacklebolt himself to be your WatchWizard—"

"—Well, you won't mind if I send an owl to the Ministry just to check on that, do you?" interrupted Barty. "Because I can remember the details of my return to society when I left Azkaban, and I'm pretty sure that I had the option to request a change if my WatchWizard and I weren't getting along."

The smug grin on Dawlish's face was wiped immediately, and now it was Barty's turn to grin triumphantly. "Well, there's no need for that."

"Good, so we're understood," Barty said. He stood up, and held his hand out to Dawlish to shake. Dawlish shook it quickly, leaving a lasting, harsh grip on his fingers, and then Barty escorted him to the door.

Just as Barty was about to close the door in his face, Dawlish spun around, suddenly wearing a nasty look on his face. "You know, I only accepted the position of continuing as your WatchWizard because no one else in my department wanted anything to do with you," he sneered cruelly. "Not to mention that the pay rise I would receive for putting up with you was substantial."

"It's a shame you're going to miss out on that, then," Barty quipped, smirking. Dawlish was acting pathetic—like a child—and he had no interest in spending any more time around the man. He was just about to close the door, when a large tawny owl suddenly swooped over the threshold, dropping a package in Barty's arms.

The seal on the envelope had the Ministry emblem, and Dawlish was leaning forward, trying to get a better look at it. When Barty noticed he was poking his overly large nose into his business, he slammed the door in his face, feeling satisfied when he heard the crunch of Dawlish's nose breaking against the glass.

He waited until Dawlish's cursing subsided and he heard the 'pop!' of him disapparating from the premises, before walking back into the living room, turning the envelope over in his hands.

"What's that?" Luna asked. She had returned from her venture around the house, and was perched on the edge of the armchair, smiling at him.

At the sight of her sitting there, back in his house, back in front of him, he had no interest in the Ministry's letter. He threw it onto the armchair and stalked towards Luna, pulling her into his arms. She laughed as he spun her around in the middle of the living room, and it was like music to his ears. He had longed to hold her for so long, to hear her voice, to feel her warmth...

She pulled his head towards her and captured his lips in her mouth, and kissed him heatedly. Barty kissed her back, trying to distil the passion that Luna was clearly alluding—he knew that the excitement would cause a natural bodily reaction in him, and he was too afraid. Those babies in her belly—he was scared that he might hurt them, or hurt her.

He pulled back as Luna pushed her hands up the front of his shirt, taking a long, flustered breath. "What's wrong?" Luna asked him in a breathy voice. It was haggard and needy, and it only filled Barty with even more desire.

"I don't want to hurt you," he murmured, looking away. He suddenly felt embarrassed for acting so...considerate.

Luna pressed her hand to his cheek and turned his face towards her. Her grey eyes were wide; great silver pools that made his heartbeat slow and a general air of calm overcome him. "You could never hurt me," she whispered. "I promise." In between her words, she placed quick, delicate kisses to his lips. She grabbed his hands, forcing him to take hold of her waist, and Barty could suddenly take no more.

His kisses grew dominant and desperate, his hands running up and down her back and buttocks possessively. She grabbed the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it over his head, and he started unbuttoning the front of his blouse. He quickly got agitated with the buttons, however, and resorted to tearing the front over, sending the remaining buttons bouncing around the room. Upon noticing the creamy expanse of skin, he leaned forward and attacked her collarbone with kisses, and she moaned his name. "Shall we go upstairs," she suggested, her voice hitching with excitement.

"No," Barty growled, pushing her back onto the couch and looming over her. "This won't take long."

Luna stifled the urge to laugh, as she adjusted herself to get comfortable on the crinkly parchment of the envelope, the one that Barty had carelessly slung aside just moments ago.


End file.
